Day 276 Navigating

September 11, 2015

(If we live with an open and grateful attitude, every
day will bring a gift. This is one of 365 gifts during the year I turned 70.)

Today was the third day at the hospital—Hopkins—but
no matter the quality of care or the friendliness of the staff, it’s a place
most people would rather not be. Me too. And I’m certain David feels the same
way. You give up a certain amount of dignity and privacy as people poke and
prod you. You feel vulnerable and out of control. I admire the courage of my
husband and his efforts to accept what must be accepted and to always be
present in the humanity of the situation.

In our lives, there are passages we must navigate—some
pleasant and some not. But no matter what, it is good to look for some small
gift of pleasantness in every situation. As I walked back through the hospital
halls toward the underground garage, I came across a lighted passageway that
touched me, demanded that I stop and reminded
me to accept the peace in that very moment. Golden late afternoon cast light
and shadows in the hall and saturated my sense of being.

On the way home, I rolled down my car window and,
as I maneuvered in the tangled traffic, I looked at each person I passed and
listened to the blending of sounds surrounding me. On some surrealistic level,
I saw and heard the world through them and was glad to be alive.